


Blind Loyalty

by SketchLockwood



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Hastings was Lord Chamberlain of England under Edward IV from 1461 to 1483. He was at Mortinmers Cross, Towton, Barnet and Tewkesbury. Was exiled with Edward to France and played a major role in English politics, economy, society and was a key Yorkist supporter and Woodville hater. Yet often he is over looked. This is a first person story in the view point of William Hastings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Loyalty

**Towton, Yorkshire**

**1461**

 

The sound of men's screams lingered yet, ringing in ears like church bells for morning mass. Three hours had past since the battles end, men whimpered like dogs, cried like children and blood coated earth, as natural in this place as silt at the bed of a river. I found myself alone among the torment, like an orphaned infant wanting his mother. No where I walked was free from the sound of desperate pleas to a God in which I could scarcely believe, no inch of this field was free from sin. There was blood on the hands of every man in England, death and mourning in the wake of every family, no matter how humble or great. Yet Edward was king, we had succeeded. 

 

What price must men pay for one man's gain? What horrors must a man see? This night my heart was filled with guilt, as I helped the wounded and watched, as grieving men buried the dead, I knew above all; innocence was nowhere this night to be found. No inch of my being wanted to stay, down to my bones I willed myself to flee. Each second my loyalty betrayed me until a time it was too late. His Lord of Warwick had approached in blood stained armour, careless for the slaughter at his own command. My eyes could not be forced upon him as he spoke, his voice heavy in the strangling air. "William, it be so that his grace wills to see you."

 

My heart begged to be free of its skeletal restraints, pounding deep within my chest. The king was young, and for his youth had come mercy. Until this day, now I knew not what to expect. My father had warned me long ago of the cruelty of men with blood upon their hands, of the merciless peril of the weak, feeble and the poor. Murderous men were blind of all 'cept ambition and greed. There was no shortage of blood this night. 

 

My body ached as it obeyed command, muscles stretched and bones cracked, my boots slipped as I walked on shaking knees toward the kings tent. I prayed to the tatters of a remaining God for mercy, prayed the boy king of York remained unmolested by the blade, and uncorrupted by the malice of battle. I'd stopped on the field, amidst a pile of bodies. The king had approached my bowed figure, sword still in hand. I fell to my knees, my tongue held back its begging only for the fear which raged within as Edward lifted his sword. "William, such work this day you have done." I risked a look at the giant before me, his eyes ordered what his mouth could not, I looked down as he smiled briefly. The metal felt heavy upon my shoulder, lacking control I winced as the blade touched one shoulder, the next. "Arise Sir William, Baron of Hastings, Lord Chamberlain of England." 

 

The gasps from those around us expressed my thoughts. With shaking limbs I rose, accepting the glances, bowed at the waist to Edward, hiding my smile as he clapped a hand against my shoulder pulling me away with him. I knew it then, from the look upon the face of the Earl of Warwick, I would never be an equal. This decision was one young King Edward would never live down. 


End file.
